Love is a sharpie
Some days it draws good things,
Some days it draws bad ones.
The lines can be thick or thin,
Or long or short.
If you leave the cap off, it'll dry out.
Or sometimes they just explode.
But usually they work just fine,
Although they do smell funny.
You can do many things with a sharpie. Even though it says "permanent",
It'll usually wash off.
Some times, you gotta rub it real hard to get it to come off,
And even then,
Not all of it does.

Show me the marks on your arm
Where your cruel forbearer
Laid his fist

Show me the lines under your bracelets
Where you dragged the blade
Across your wrist

Don't hide the painful memories
For every wound I will heal
As I kiss

as he stared at her from afar
in a sweet, loving gaze,
with sweaty palms and a hesitating voice,
he never really realized
that someone else
loves him the same way he loves her.

Sitting in the waiting room of a Children's Hospital
Orange plastic church
Of medicine
There's a beautiful woman with a head scarf and a baby
And you've disappeared behind a door
So many appointments
So many checkups
For me at least
I've only been in a hospital twice before -
When my sister was having her babies
I was only in the waiting room
And now she's getting divorced
Come out soon please

But I could do this again
I could do this as much as you needed
I'll be there fire every appointment
Every checkup
Even if some day -
It stops feeling like so many
Come out soon please

I hate that you're sick
Even when you're healthy
Surgery doesn't scare you -
But if it really does, it's okay
The baby is wearing a blue hat
She's sweet
Ours will be too
Please come out soon

Your dad and I are sitting on complete opposite sides of this couch
I don't know if either of us will ever be used to one another
I am still fond of him
I'll hug him at our wedding
And we'll give him grandchildren
I don't mind that he's grumpy
I just hope he likes me
But please come out soon

I do not believe in soulmates because my mum got six kids out of a fourteen year marriage, but she also got two weeks of drowning herself in alcohol to **** the pain, followed by another man who does not quite keep up.

I do not believe in soulmates because I spent sixteen hours sitting on the bathroom floor with my Aunt on her wedding day while she threw up alcohol along with her arguments to her new husband as a honeymoon.

I do not believe in soulmates because my grandmother stayed with her abusive husband for seven years just to fill the void space in her heart, simply because she was dying, even though she was wise enough to know he was not 'the one'.

I do not believe in soulmates,
But I do believe in us.

5 years on,
yet it still lingers in my mind.
that fateful night,
when i was engulfed by the flames,
and taken into the dark.

it started peacefully at first.
we were friends-- no
we were great friends
a powerful bond that could not be broken
but sadly,
that alone were the boundaries.

i started falling for you.
day by day
hour by hour
minute by minute,
it grew stronger.
an overwhelming feeling it was
what was it called again? oh right, love

after a year or so,
i finally confessed
even if the inevitable response will reach my ears
"i'm sorry but its better if we're just friends"
a smile crept on my face
as i wept inside.
but thats ok,
because you never seemed to have left my side
you were always there for me
a great friend indeed.

we'd always exchange smiles at each other
and sometimes, they'd last a second too long
and you would turn away to avoid it from being longer.
oh right you have a girlfriend
i guess it did hurt me but what could i do?
we were only just friends

but i ruined it.
that bond we used to share snapped in a split second
it was at that fateful night,
where i lost my path to you.

it has been 5 years
and i am sorry.
sorry for being such a nuisance you had to be "friends" with
sorry for loving you at the first place
sorry for making you feel so guilty for not loving me back
but please
at least
give me one last chance
one last time to be next to you
one last glance
a smile
a final burst of laughter with you
because even if this will just last for a short while,
at least
it gives me hope that we can be friends once again.

Onetime I let a boy inside my ribcage

I warned him upon entry that the path to the     space     between my lungs was a oneway ticket

that I had never smoked a cigarette,
but the walls inside me were tar-filled  

and sick

that sometimes my heart failed to beat with my brain and instead fell into
perfect
uneven
synchrony with the faucet

where I threw-up cherry red the other night.

Onetime I let a boy with a knife inside my ribcage

and I had seen the knife

and I didn't care

he climbed inside me so gently
like he belonged there and was just taking his place

like a missing *****
he made me his home
reassembled my insides

vital pieces of me now resting on his body,
depending on his body

one hand on my heart

the other on my throat.

Onetime I let a boy with a knife and a bottle of bourbon live inside my ribcage

he cleaned the tar off the walls
but didn't cure the sickness

I think he liked the smell of it.

One night he carved his name everywhere

spine
clavicle
esophagus

and I pretended to sleep

cut
nick
slash

he tried to claim me
he tried to clean me

but lost souls can't be claimed
and I'll never be clean enough

my heart follows faucets
not boys

and that scared the boy

so one night he poured the bourbon down the throat he held

and I didn't stop him

and I almost drowned

gulp, gulp, gulp
slash, slash, slash

cursive illegible sorry's
over every spot he had once cut his name into

and he kissed the wounds
and I woke up heavy.

Organs are worthless without their host but

Onetime I watched a boy tear his way out of my ribcage.

Knife and empty bottle in his place,
nothing's been working right in there since.

I haven't let anyone in there since.